


Whistle

by Graymalkyn



Category: Fable 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graymalkyn/pseuds/Graymalkyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The odd relationship between a monk of the Temple of Light, Tim, and a female Sparrow. Fable II. One-shot story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whistle

**Whistle**

Tim stopped working and raised his head. The wind carried the tune much better than the performer. There was some barking every now and then, and if you listened very closely, you'd realize that the dog sounded as if he was following a cue. Whistle – bark; whistle-whistle – bark; whistlewhistlewhistlewhistle – barkbark; whistle – bark.

He got off the step-ladder and took a few steps round the bend. Whistle – bark. He peered at the path across the cascade and there she was, stepping stones and whistling, followed by her dog. Her firm, young body was dressed in pauper's clothes, and a tiny feathery hat was covering her dark chestnut hair. Tim thought that the combination was exotic, to say the least. She stopped in the middle of the way and wielded a cheap-looking iron longsword. Her dog stood beside her, protecting his owner.

Tim took a few steps back. "I'm a brother of the Temple of Light!" he shouted. She sheathed her weapon and patted the dog. She resumed her whistling and walked past him. Man, she was scary. But still, there was a certain light to her. It was probably the effect of twilight, he thought, and waited until she had entered the Temple to resume his duties. Just in case.

That night he heard from the other brothers that she had been rejected by the Abbot. She had no way of vouching for her combat experience and the Abbot didn't want to risk the safety of his daughter with a stranger. Tim wondered what it would be like, to be rejected. As long as your intentions were good, everybody was accepted into the Temple of Light, and if you weren't that good, the Temple of Shadows was more than happy to get a few more recruits. Tim had been living in the Light for 20 years now, his parents having died during a Hobbe attack on the family farmhouse when he was 10. The Temple was his home, and Oakfield was a nice little place to raise a family. But he wasn't into those things. Other monks had drifted apart from the Temple, and yet not from the Light. He had never understood what led people to act that way, but he suspected it had something to do with long, brown hair and feathery caps.

A few weeks later, the Abbot sent him to buy some produce from the market. The harvest hadn't been as productive as it usually was because the Golden Oak hadn't been properly watered. Down the road he went, and he was getting to the stall when he heard the whistling and the barking. He hesitated and walked a few more steps, but then he heard a girlish giggle. Something inside him stirred awake. He walked towards the source of the sound, and there she was, swimming near the watermill, diving for stuff, and playing with her dog. The feathery cap was gone, and Tim found himself wondering if the rest of the clothes were gone as well. His heartbeat quickened. What was he thinking? By the Acorn! The Abbot would flog him if… if… Actually, no. Flogging was a Temple of Shadows thing, although they used it to reward their monks, but anyway – No. She was a girl, much younger than he was –eighteen, nineteen years old?– and it was not right. The girl and Tim, together? No, sirree! It wouldn't be right of him to wish she got out of the water naked. Not at all. He laughed. Nope. Digging his fingers in her sweet buttocks? Not even once. Cupping her breasts and kissing them passionately? Never. Nah, nah.

"What are you nah-nahing about?" The Abbot was standing next to him. He'd returned to the Temple, lost in reverie. "And what is that strange protrusion in your robes?"

Tim looked down embarrassedly.

"Holy Tofu!" the Abbot exclaimed, as Tim took his hand out of his pocket. He gave the Abbot the Holy Tofu he'd been saving for a few days –it had been his birthday present to himself. The Abbot was delighted that he'd found such a delicacy, but felt sad to hear that the stall had been closed by the time Tim had arrived.

That night he couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about the girl and her soft skin, bathed in the sunlight, in the moonlight, in the twilight, in candlelight, in her own light. He had seen her glowing, her brightness shining through the clear waters of the creek. He couldn't just lie there. He had to talk to her. He had to know her name. He had to convince himself that she wasn't as juicy and bitable as she looked. He got up, put on his dark robes, and walked resolutely to the Sandgoose. It was the only tavern in Oakfield; she had to be staying there.

He saw her from afar, sitting at the Gamemaster's table, playing Spinnerbox and drinking with the locals. Everybody was laughing with her. She was loud and bold, nothing like the girl he had in mind: she was a true Albion daughter. He approached her table and opened his mouth to say 'hello', but instead…

"I want you. I want you now," he growled. The urgency in his voice shocked him. Brilliant. Now she'd think that he was some weirdo, some aging slob that had a major crush on a young girl who would never pay attention to him, or beckon to him the way she was doing it now.

She was beckoning.

She was beckoning. His heart beat faster. She held him by the hand and whispered something in his ear. She had seen him before. Twice, in fact. She slipped a condom in his hand and walked to her room. He followed her like a dog, like her dog, and when he got to the room, she was already lying in bed, waiting for him.

She was already a woman, and that night he became a man. She told him that she was married. It had been a loveless, unintentional marriage, actually. Her heart hadn't been hard enough to break someone else's, and she had married a lucky bastard back in Bowerstone. She didn't see much of her husband, busy as she was adventuring, but was it alright if they met every time she was in Oakfield? He nodded silently and went back to kissing the line of her neck, her big breasts, her cute navel.

When he woke up the next morning, she was gone.

Months later, the Abbot finally agreed to let her be his daughter's bodyguard. She was a Hero, but she still had much to learn. Neither she nor the Abbot's daughter made it back in time to save the Abbot. He was mercilessly killed by an assassin who had come to look for the now orphaned daughter. That night, Tim went to the Sandgoose to offer her some sort of consolation: she hadn't completely succeeded, and she had to feel bad about it. But again, as soon as he was behind her, something stronger than him took over.

"Let's find a room. I've got something to show you," he said in a low voice. He bit his tongue. Why couldn't he control himself around her?

She didn't keep him waiting. He could tell that she needed him, and he made love to her with a strength that took a toll in every muscle of his body the day after. This time he kissed her goodbye; he knew that she'd return.

She did return, two years later. This time she looked for him. Her body had changed. It was bigger – softer in some parts, harder in others. She told him that she'd had a baby. Her husband took care of her little boy while she was away. Tim didn't know how to react. She had lain with someone else. But then it struck him:  _he_  was that  _someone else_. She belonged to her husband. Some part of him told him to stop meeting her, thinking about her. He was a brother of the Light. But she was the Light herself. He couldn't let go of her.

This time, when she was getting ready to leave, he remarked, "You know, my finger looks quite lonely without a ring." She raised her eyebrows. She laughed and shook her beautiful head – her cascading hair glistening in the morning sun.

She disappeared for a couple of weeks, and one day she returned – grave, somber. She had bad news. Soon she'd have to go away for a long time.

"We should get married," he said, lying on top of her, between kisses.

She laughed again.

"We should get married," he repeated.

She stared at him silently. His heart skipped several beats; so many that for a few seconds he wondered if it would ever resume its normal rhythm. She kissed him and moved her hands over his body – her fingers tingled with electricity, touching him in a way that drove him mad with desire.

When he woke up the next day, she was standing by the bed. She handed him his robes and when he was fully dressed, she took him to the outskirts of Oakfield.

The face of the Demon Door wept with joy when she knelt in front of him and offered him an Eternal Love ring. He said yes.

They were married by the Town Crier that afternoon, and her wedding present for him was the most beautiful farm he'd ever seen, lost in space, gifted by the Demon Door itself. They called it Serenity, and after he'd failed to properly perform his duties as her husband (he was nervous and too excited to last long), she made chocolate fondue and invited him to paint her body with it.

Chocolate always worked miracles.

They spent their first week together making love on every piece of furniture they found. The chickens in the pen cackled, scandalized by the two naked lovers, who were prancing around, giggling, finding new places to reaffirm their love again and again.

Her belly grew as time went by. She couldn't go back to her other husband in that state. Tim felt guilty for feeling so good about it. When the baby finally came, he stopped sleeping. The baby's cry had nothing to do with his nervousness: he knew that now she'd be free to fly away again.

One morning, she and her dog simply vanished through the portal that led to Oakfield. Tim's heart felt heavy that day. He held the baby and sang for her. He learned to whistle, but there was no barking to complete the tune. A year went by, and then another, and another. He knew that time was going by just because he'd go outside, hoping to get a glimpse of her. Maybe she was waiting for him at the Sandgoose. Maybe she'd forgotten they were a family now. Time went by. He played with his ring and taught his little girl to spin it like a top. The girl had her mother's girlish giggle, and his heart felt glad. Time didn't stop.

One day, the air changed. Tim stopped collecting the produce from the orchard and raised his head. The wind carried the tune much better than the performer. There was some barking every now and then, and if you listened very closely, you'd _know_ that the dog was following a cue. Whistle – bark; whistle-whistle – bark; whistlewhistlewhistlewhistle – barkbark; whistle – bark.

He wiped his hands on his robes and took a few steps forward. There she was – taller, brighter, looking tired but more beautiful than ever. He smiled.

His little Sparrow had returned home.


End file.
